One Good Reason
by NobleCaliber
Summary: Just one more Lassie-knows-about-Shules fic. Whats one more? *Not a Slash, dispite the charater listings*


A/N: Let this join the Lassie-finds-out-about-Shules stories! What's one more?

"Lassie?" Shawn did a double take as he opened his door, on the other side of which stood none other than Detective Carlton Lassiter. He yawned, his hair disheveled, as Lassiter had woken him from his sleep. To say the least, he was surprised by the man standing on his doorstep, in the middle of the night without so much as a warning.

The head detective only growled in irritation, pushing the object of his annoyance out of his way as he stormed inside his excuse of a house. Unsure where to start off, Carlton strode confidently into what he guessed was the living area (it was all really just one or two rooms) as Shawn closed the door behind him, obviously confused.

The place was a mess; with pointless trinkets everywhere, candy wrappers and takeout boxed were scattered on the coffee table, the laundry hamper overflowing with dirty clothes. But, his home was scented like a feminine perfume, the one Carlton knew his partner wore, which, paired with several decidedly _female _articles of clothing, which stuck out willy-nilly with the rest of the abundance of dirty clothes from their container confirmed that Juliet had recently been to Shawn's residence, and those visits had been quite _friendly_.

"What are you doing here?" Shawn cautiously questioned, a hint of skepticism in his voice as his words flowed slowly from his mouth. "And how did you get my address?"

"Gus croaked when I threatened his caramel," Lassiter said simply, chuckling as he recalled demanding Shawn's address as he held a tin of caramel squares above the sidekick's head, threatening to burn it, fill it with dirt, or do a number of nasty things to it that made Gus's head swim.

"Damn it, Gus. There's more on the top shelf!" The pseudo-psychic exclaimed, clearly displeased with his friend's antics and caramel-driven lifestyle. "You didn't answer my first question," he finished, waiting expectantly for a response he soon regretted asking for.

"Oh, yes. Well. I…" Carlton was having a hard time saying what he meant to, so he decided to make a blunt statement. "You're _dating_ O'Hara." He said, his face blank, the shock settling in again. Something about it was unfathomable.

Although, if he really thought about it, it made sense and he wondered why he'd never seen it coming. For years, the two had flirted shamelessly. Shawn had been visibly jealous when Juliet had gone on fake dates with Raj. He was clearly unsettled when she had begun to date Declan. Lassiter had casually shrugged off the recent sideways glances, pretended not to notice Juliet's eyes go wide when Yang mentioned _Shawn's lover_, and paid no heed when she thoughtlessly agreed to Yang's conditions, selflessly endangering herself in an attempt to save Shawn's foolhardy ass.

Dumbfounded by the statement, Shawn recoiled before turning the accusation down profusely. "I… Uh, what?" He started, elongating his syllables, his voice raising multiple octaves in fake denial. He scoffed. "Oh, no, no, no, Lassitarian. Whe-where would you even come up with something like that?" He tried to look less blindsided than he felt.

Lassiter shot back his reply with sarcasm that usually came from his partner's apparent secret boyfriend. "In the observation room. Where I saw you kiss her." He said, sitting casually on the couch and firing a knowing glance at Shawn.

Shawn's eyes popped before he cleared his throat. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he deadpanned, sitting on the arm of the couch, far from Carlton's angry, clenched fists. He didn't want to risk the vengeful man's hands finding their way around his neck and strangling him in blind, trauma-induced rage.

"Give it up, Spencer. I _saw_ you." Carlton argued before he rattled off details as if to prove himself. " You called yourself a rabbit and a dragonfly, kissed her twice, once on her hand, but still; then you promised to bring her pancakes on your," he paused, his face paling in distaste. "_Date_ tonight." He cleared his throat, trying to force down the contents of his stomach, which threatened to resurface at the mere mention of his partner and his virtual enemy on a _date_.

"Lassie, you can't _tell_ anyone," Shawn said, Lassiter not missing his pleading tone. Fear radiated off of him, he obviously did not want his relationship with Juliet revealed. He blinked rapidly and his hands twitched at his sides, he was becoming desperate.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't." The detective threatened. "Why shouldn't I go to Vick _right now_?" he defied. In reality, he cared about his partner and, although he didn't approve of Shawn Spencer, he couldn't help but be happy for her because _she_ was happy. And weather he took the whole affair to Karen or not, he found deep satisfaction in seeing Shawn's face turn white as a ghost at the possibility.

"Well, for one, it's the middle of the night and she's probably asleep. Other than that, I don't have a reason that would leave your lunch in your intestines. Unless you want to hear those too…" He trailed off, his playful, suggestive tone sickening Carlton.

"Ew! Spencer, _shut up_!" Lassiter cried, clearly disgusted. His stomach began to churn at his inflection while his brain tried to block out thoughts of Shawn's implications at his and Juliet's romantic extracurriculars. Hard as he tried though, he turned a bit green as he wondered if he needed to continue the conversation after locating the nearest toilet. Yet another lurch of his insides caused him to seriously consider it. But as clichéd as it was, the detective saw that reason in his eyes, his posture.

"Lassie…" Shawn prompted, all seriousness restored. The pleading tone had returned to his voice and was quickly filling his eyes. It was obvious this was one of few things that meant a lot to him.

"You hurt her…" Carlton started, only to be cut off.

"And you'll shoot me dead and frame an innocent man after you dump me in a ditch in Texas," Shawn finished.

"I'm glad we understand each other." Carlton said flatly.

"You don't trust me," Shawn clarified, picking up on the distaste in Lassiter's voice.

"Of course not. You've proven yourself to be a womanizing player." He justified. "Give me a reason to trust you, Spencer." Lassiter demanded angrily, almost reverting to have second thoughts about his decision to keep his discovery secret.

Rising, he walked toward the door, preparing to let himself out. However, halfway through the doorframe, he paused and looked back. "Shawn," he caught the psychic's attention, initiating eye contact to ensure he was serious. Alluding to his earlier conversation with O'Hara, he threatened him once again. "She's falling for you. And you sure as hell better catch her."

And with that, he slipped away. Shawn heard his car start up and drive away, leaving him thinking, _I intend to._


End file.
